


Suddenly Seymour

by LetaDarnell



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: Amputee, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, What the Hell Hero?, i did what i had to do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetaDarnell/pseuds/LetaDarnell
Summary: Do you forgive the river for how it flows?  Do you shame the clouds as they trespass into the sunlight?  Demons lurk in love, but there is no tragedy when you cannot feel.  What is done in thy name is no savior, nor has it ever been your duty.Look past the dream of death, and break the spiral of pain.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. As the world falls down

Yuna had given her speech that she would end Sin once again in confidence. But what she hadn’t told anyone yet was about the dream she had had the night before. She grew confident as Spira’s savior. She felt free after what she had thought was the permanent end of Sin. She felt she deserved to spend her time relaxing without worries or have a need to keep busy. Before, it had all been because of boredom or to forget about what she had lost. Now, after asking her friends to join her once again, she wished she had never made this decision to be a heroine again.

Rikku immediately volunteered to help. It was her cousin’s nature to insist on aiding in helping the world, especially when Yuna was involved. She found Paine, their friend from when the three went out sphere hunting across the land. 

Tidus insisted on being with Yuna as well and the two newcomers; Chuami and Kurgum had insisted to be part of the fight, though they had yet to admit any skills other than learning to fly the airship.

Standing on the bridge of it,everyone waited patiently for directions and more importantly, answers.

“Where’s Marphie?” Yuna asked Tidus, hoping to find any excuse not to do this, or at least not with him. Yuna wanted to relax and enjoy a life without danger or being dragged everywhere. He, though, wanted to travel and show off. Marphie had become the topic of their recent fights, which had grown more and more constant.

“She’s on Besaid with Wakka and Lulu,” Tidus answered defensively. “She’s not involved in this and I don’t want her to be.”

Yuna’s shoulders fell slightly. Fighting with Tidus was her only excuse to stall. She didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially those who looked up to her and were eager to help her, both personally and with her mission, how lost she felt.

“Yunie, what’s wrong?” Rikku asked.

“What happened?” Paine asked. She was smart enough to know Tidus wasn’t the problem.

“I don’t know,” Yuna whispered. “I mean… I don’t know what to do.”

_ Every time she saw the farplane in her dreams, she couldn’t help be in awe of the serenity, even for a few moments. This time, she found herself standing on a scorched patch of rock, as if her feet caused the ground to bleed smoke and fire. The flowers had gone grey, like old bone. Standing before her was the strange child Fayth, his face hidden under his large hood. _

_ Pyreflies floating from his visage wafted between them. “Sin has returned.” The Fayth stated, yet curious to know if it was true. _

_ “Yes,” Yuna answered. “But Yu Yevon has been dead for a long time. Hasn’t he?” _

_ “He and his daughter sleep. For now,” the Fayth answered. _

_ “Then—“ There was a sudden rumbling at her feet between them. Her fingers touched a stream of pyreflies flying from him, only to become cinders at her touch. The ground began to bleed again, a deep wound marking a line between where the two stood. A harsh wind picked up, taking up itself the task of rage. The ground had given up in order to be still as it continued to shake and tear itself apart in the wake. _

_ Yuna held her hand to protect her eyes from the sting, a sharp burn like hot needles assaulted her. _

_ It finally passed, like the strike of lightning, the whispers or the deadly force behind her. _

_ Upon lowering her hand, Yuna found someone else standing before her. She had been beautiful once,but was now just a ghost in the shell of a young woman too ravaged by tears. The flowers of the farplane were gone, leaving only a barren, dead, and empty terrain. _

_ “He does not know the power he holds… he never knew,” she spoke to her empty hands, trying to cradle something delicate that was not there. “I tried. I begged. I could not hold them. Either of them. He’s gone. I just… all I wanted was to hold him once more.” She collapsed to her knees, sobbing. _

_ Yuna wanted to comfort the strange woman but, as she tentatively reached forward and risk a whisper of hope in the silence between them, there was a loud crack beneath her boot. _

_ Yuna frantically stepped back, the ruined ground beneath her shattered where she had been standing, falling into the colorless nothingness below. _

_ “How do I stop this?” Yuna screamed to the empty air. _

_ “The temple,” the woman said. “I left him where it all started. I tried to protect him, but I couldn’t stop…I could never hurt my beloved.” _

_ The woman looked up at Yuna, her eyes shining through sparkling tears like dew. “The Temple. Before it’s too late. It will be dark soon.” _

_ A cold torrent began, smothering the wounded ground in an unforgiving flood. The stiff, empty landscape gave way, dripping in thick, oozing cascades to the unforgiving nowhere below. _

_ Lightning flashed. _

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”


	2. Baptized in blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild gore

Yuna had saved the world, had fought Sin unscathed, had kept the entire world from being swept up in the desire for war when they should have been rebuilding; she was the hero. She was the leader. She protected people. Tidus no longer got to do that. He didn’t deserve to anymore.

Tidus wasn’t fond of the sudden reversal of roles. He had only been in Spira for a few months after the Fayth had suddenly brought him back by dumping him in the ocean for Yuna to find like a treasure. He was tired of getting told what to do or what to think. Especially by people he had already known before coming to Spira. Tidus wanted to see the people of Spira enjoy themselves finally, and he wanted to join them. But for some reason, Yuna was already angry at him before Sin had returned and now she was angry at him for wanting to give it all up to help her now that Sin was back.

Two new people were flying the Celsius, Rikku’s new airship that had become their new home along with his now—new to him, at least. Kurgum and Chuami, nice people according to Tidus, had taken over the bridge. Although Kurgum’s formal attitude made him seem distant while Chuami was explicit about wanting to get too close.

*****

“There’s only so many temples in the world; we can just check ‘em all,” Paine stated.

“That’s just a big waste of time,” Yuna argued. “We don’t even know who we’re looking for.”

“Temples tend to have a lot of secrets, too,” Pained replied. “This might be a lot more complicated than you think.”

Rikku just shrugged. She had no idea why the temples hadn’t been renovated into shops or libraries or even something useful yet. The Fayth didn’t bother her and she didn’t bother them.

“Well, it’s not in Bevelle. I was just there,” Tidus added, trying to be helpful.

“How would you know?” Yuna scoffed at him. “You were with Marphie the whole time.”

“Leave her out of this!” Tidus shot back. He had spent months trying to protect his friend from others, but he never expected to have to protect her from his girlfriend. “Besides, Macalania Temple isn’t an option either, obviously. Donna would have mentioned something if Kilika was involved. We wouldn’t be here if it happened on Besaid.”

“Still too many options,” Yuna mumbled. She wanted answers. She was tired of trying to figure out puzzles, only to find out she was too late.

“What’s that?” Rikku interrupted.

Everyone turned to the window. The forest rippled as a tremor shook the ground far below the airship. A thick, black shadow began to seep out of the center, creeping through the crashing trees until they were drowned in the imkyabyss. The tremors stopped as the darkness kissed the edge of the forest.

“Is it getting darker?” Chuami asked, looking up instead of down.

Indeed, the clouds began to spread, almost bubbling like magma as they swarmed to blot out the sun. The sky began to rumble, as if challenging anyone who wished to protest the change in the weather.

“What about a broken temple?” Rikku asked. “No one else would ever check there.”

***

The clouds had gathered across the sky as far as anyone could see from the airship. 

“That isn’t a good sign,” Paine commented as the ship landed on the dark ocean.

The sky flickered red above the island, like a dying star, trying to take as much of the velvet sky with them in an angry burst of fury.

“It’s a sign,” Kurgum muttered.

He and Chuami stayed aboard as the others left to explore. While they both wanted to share the journey, they also understood some things were just too dangerous for them.

The four separated into two groups of two, each hunted through the shadows and followed by the scratching noises of the native creatures that followed after them.

The place was naturally dark, abandoned years ago in fear. Tidus remembered this place, though. He had been here when he first came to Spira--the real Spira. He wondered if there was some reason he had been brought here as well. 

Tidus wandered through familiar haunted halls, recalling that he had already known someone had been here long before him. Someone had abandoned flowers and flint for someone to find later. He had found an old bunch of flowers and a flint someone had previously used when he had first arrived in this time. Everything had grown cold by the time he had been here. Not even ghosts whispered throughout the empty, fallen halls.

The place was long dead. Whoever had been here before him wanted to keep it that way. Everything of importance had been sealed away or hidden or was behind fallen rubble. Rib-like arches towered into the darkness or had given up their vigilance and collapsed; their duty no longer needed. Tidus saw no signs that anyone had ever been here before him, save for the occasional statue of a summoner, lost in a history he was oblivious to. Then...

“Yuna! I found something!” Tidus yelled as his flashlight shone on something unusual.

Rikku chased away a large reptile that had been licking a spot on the rubble. At first it was just a dark puddle, nothing amiss in a building half-sunk and barely there.

No, there were no ghosts here. Not yet.

Tidus looked around, soon spotting a trail, already tracked by similar creatures.

“Eww,” Rikku squeaked, chasing after them, while avoiding the splatter. Blood had returned to this monument to the dead. Fresh, sticky blood had dribbled onto the stone and the scent of a fresh meal had attracted the hungry wildlife.

Rikku and Tidus followed the dark trail over a pile of debris; Yuna and Paine caught up with them as Tidus was struggling to move a broken door from a larger pile of boulders. The barrier had been moved by bloodied hands to keep out the hungry wails.

Joined by Paine, Tidus managed to push the door far enough that it toppled off the pile, letting it smash against the floor below.

There he lay, the answer to one riddle that spread like the roots of weeds into many more.

Seymour of the lost Guado, former maester and iconic cause of cold-blooded murder, lay dying.

Callow skin and shallow breath, he was far too close to the farplane to be of any use they could think of. His left hand was the key to this fate: One of the native lizards had sunk half its teeth deep into his muscles as he landed a blow that had smashed through the other half of its head. He had finished it off viciously against the cold stone before running from those with similarly hungry maws. Soon after barring the others from his hiding spot, he had lost the fight. 

Barely alive, with his injured hand turning unhealthy colors, he still smiled. The smirk had been meant for his lizard friends, making what victory he could out of the situation. He would have worn the same grin, had he seen their faces.


	3. Masochism Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: same gore, more mention of it

Yuna felt sick to her stomach. She had two options, both of which made her want to retch. She could let Seymour die slowly; there were more wounds than they had initially thought: broken ribs, another bite wound he had tried to treat by himself, broken toes, and a dislocated shoulder. Or she could help him herself, digging her fingers under a jaw with no head, slowly pulling teeth the size of nails from flesh that had begun to rot, and find a way to repair the shredded remains of his bestial hand. Or, she could do what everyone except Kurgum and Chuami were telling her to do: Find someone else, a professional who would take one look at his injury and slice it right off.

Yuna had met Gippal. And Nooj. While Nooj openly admitted to his injuries, his mechanical limbs seemed natural to him. Neither talked about the injuries apart from Nooj’s occasional jokes Nooj would make about himself. How long had it taken for his limbs to be replaced? Was Baralai’s life any different, at all? What was it like, huddled wherever they were, torn apart, waiting for death or a miracle to tell you it had never happened? Yuna wanted to think they had just woken up in the hospital and walked away, just glad to be alive and ready to return to life. But now she knew that had never been the case.

Kurgum and Chuami had both protested bringing Seymour on board. They had both preferred if he had been left alone, or that the lizards had made a quick end to him. Kurgum was quiet after Yuna said he’d get his first chance to send someone if Seymour’s condition got worse, and Tidus ended Chuami’s complaints by telling her Auron wouldn’t agree with her.

Throwing him back wasn’t an option, even if Yuna preferred it. Even if everyone else preferred it. Even if the whole world preferred it. Sin was back. The farplane had collapsed in on itself. Something strange was happening in Macalania forest. Seymour HAD to be involved with one of those. Some way. Some how. Then he was going to answer for his crimes. He wasn’t going to get away with things just by dying, no matter how much he deserved to literally rot.

Even if Yuna or her friends bothered to tend to his wounds, cast cure on his broken bones, slam his shoulder back into place, and toss away the pieces of a monster, none of them could do anything about his hand. All they knew was that someone, somewhere, could, and that they would need a lot of incentive to never speak of it again. And that they needed to find them NOW.

Yuna had never felt so useless as she told Paine to find Leblanc, the only person they knew who might know such a person. Two years ago, she had been branded a traitor and she had no idea where to go. Back then, Tidus held her and all her problems seemed to slip away. Now Yuna didn’t even have that. Tidus had Marphie now.

She was a traitor for doing this. Bribery, lies, secrets, all for some maniac who destroyed half the world. How much more was this going to cost her?

The worst part was, she had lost Tidus before any of these disasters had ever occurred.

***

Everything took too damn long. Leblanc took too damn long to believe that the Gullwings would stoop to asking for a doctor to do whatever it was they wouldn’t tell her about. It took too damn long to find him. It took too damn long for him to do his job. He stayed too damn long wanting answers. He was supposed to be paid for not to ask anything. Tidus took too damn long on Kilika, saying he was threatening the doctor and asking Donna for help keeping him quiet. Seymour slept too damn long while he recovered.

Upon hearing a shriek, echoing from a spare room in the cargo bay, all she could do was shrug and comment, “Finally.”

****

Seymour was not usually one to panic. He was usually better at handling disasters than this. Baaj was nothing in comparison. Whoever was trying to tease him about his past, he was determined not to let them. The native wildlife didn’t give him any time to reflect on anything if he had wanted to. He’d won, in a way. Whoever wanted him to feel punished in the same prison he was sent to as a child had failed to make him feel guilty over whatever he was supposed to guess at feeling sorry about. The creatures had failed to make a meal out of him. It was hardly a fair fight, considering there were so many of them and they were armed with giant fangs and he was both unarmed and unprepared. He’d taken out enough to feel he’d managed a victory. At least infections were just opportunists who waited until someone did something as stupid as he had to move in and claim his life. They didn’t punch you in the face or team up against you.

No, no, he was never that lucky. He should never have been so naïve as to think fate would let him die alone with only nature taking him back to the farplane.

He found himself trapped in a small metal box of a room. In the air, given what he could tell from the tiny window. No doubt he was a prisoner of the Al Behd. He’d never been a popular person; they might as well have their chance giving him hell. At least he could just shrug and rub it in their faces that they wasted their time on a guy who had no idea what they were saying.

He wasn’t going to let them gloat knowing all this machina put a bad taste in his mouth. The guado were people of nature: Sleep in the trees, live in the dirt, they always told him. Pretentious bunch of bastards, in his mind. They always cared more for a clump of mushrooms than him.

Then he noticed a weight on his arm.

He was playing with someone with a far sicker sense of humor than he had thought possible. Someone was out there with a sense of creativity that just might find a way to break down the walls he’d carefully built out of lies and laughter. And they knew exactly what kind of secrets lay just beyond them.

He lost control of himself for a few seconds before he started wondering how much of his past he could use as his own ammunition before they started using them against him. He screamed.


	4. Guys and Dolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am pretty sure this is not how you interrogate someone

“Throw that thing out,” Chuami complained. “Yuna tossed it in the trash for a reason.”

“I can fix it,” Kurgum insisted again. “Wakka’s child might want it. Or Marphie. She likes these things, I heard.”

“Ancient garbage is still garbage,” Chuami protested.

“It’s not that old,” Kurgum replied. “It can’t be. Look at it.”

“It’s garbage,” Chuami repeated.

“It’s just a toy, see?” Kurgum held out the thing to Chuami to look at the few repairs he had done with pins. 

She could see that it had once been a stuffed doll. Now headless and one arm missing it’s stuffing, the colors faded to that of cold dust—it had once been a Guado Glories doll, loved too much and for too long, eventually abandoned to the elements.

“Who would take a child there?” Chuami asked. “Get rid of it before it gives you rabies or something.”

She kept staring at it, trying to figure out its purpose so she could toss it back to where it was supposed to be. She knew Kurgum was only trying to patch it up to ignore what was going on outside.

A thick, dense fog had blanketed Spira. Piloting the Celsius had become a dangerous and slow task, but they refused to land, given their new ‘guest’.

***

Seymour wasn’t surprised his scream had attracted attention. Whose attention was a surprise, however. Yuna had a mechanical weapon aimed at his head the second she came through the door and was quick to add another. Seymour noticed a heavily armed friend of hers was also ready to use her large sword on him. He didn’t need to know what it was or how it worked; he recognized a death threat when he saw it.

“Ah, this seems rather familiar,” he commented, ignoring Yuna’s friends.

“Talk!” Yuna demanded. “Or else!”

“Last time I talked you slit my throat,” Seymour commented. “And I’m daily certain you’ve already done ‘else’.”

“Yuna, put that away,” Paine said. “Is he always like this?”

“Yes,” Rikku commented. “You’re in trouble!”

“At least I’m consistent,” Seymour said, shrugging.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Yuna asked.

“I appear to have been kidnapped,” he answered bluntly.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Paine asked. “Before you woke up here.”

“I was being eaten alive by lizards,” he replied.

“Before that.”

“I was dead. And before that, Yuna was the one responsible.”

“How can you not know what’s going on?” Yuna protested. This was not how things were supposed to go with him.

“Not having a clue where I am would explain most of that,” he retorted. “Being eaten alive would explain the rest.”

“Something happened to Guadosalam!” Yuna chided him.

“I wasn’t there,” he said calmly, shaking his head.

“The farplane is all messed up!” she continued.

“It was like that when I got there,” he answered. “Feel free to interrogate someone else on that matter.”

“Sin is back,” was her final accusation. Everything else had been heated, meant to burn, while this was cold, aiming for the heart.

And it missed. “That tends to happen, yes,” he replied. “I’d offer you a hand, but I don’t seem to have one to spare,” he said smugly as he held up the mechanical limb, barely wanting to touch it.

“Let me see that,” Rikku said, grabbing his limp, mechanical hand. “Oh, this needs to be tightened.”

Seymour hissed inwardly as his arm was yanked toward his accusers. It was bad enough he had it stuck to him in the first place; he didn’t want anyone else touching the filthy thing.

“No.” Yuna stated. Her words were cold again, but the harshness had vanished. The sheer winds had vanished, leaving only gently falling snow. “No. Sin wasn’t supposed to come back. We killed it. We killed you and then we destroyed Sin. We brought an end to Yu Yevon. It was supposed to be an Eternal Calm. The Fayth aren’t asleep anymore and the aeons are gone!” Her words were just fluttering snow. Sad, sad snow.

Rikku dropped his arm as the other two girls looked at Yuna. Yuna had freed herself from a life where the most glorious and selfless act was a death sentence and had enjoyed two years of happiness, finally able to choose everything in her path so she could be a hero of hope and glee, only to return to the age of despair and martyrs.

Seymour, however, was unmoved. He’d learned long ago other people’s tears shouldn’t concern him unless he wanted them to.

“Well, this was pointless,” Paine scoffed.

“I agree, miss… do I know you?” Seymour asked. He had no idea where he was, who he was talking to, or what was going on. And he was asked to… he also didn’t quite know that. He hoped this wasn’t going to last.

“Paine,” she introduced herself.

“Appropriate,” he commented.

“Do you remember me?” Rikku chirped, eager for recognition. “Umm…” She realized her choices were ‘I was the one eating your food’ or ‘I was the one who was throwing grenades’. “I guess not.”

“This doesn’t come off, does it?” he asked, holding his mechanical hand away from himself.

“It’s bolted on,” she explained.

“Mmmh,” he muttered in response. Flesh met metal. Living muscle spoke to something cold and dead. Someone who had once mocked death stared at something that mocked life, and the irony was not lost on him.

“Come on, Yunie. We’ll figure something out,” Rikku said, tugging on her cousin’s arms. In truth, she didn’t like the look Seymour was giving his replacement appendage. She didn’t want him getting ideas, especially dark ones, and she felt the best solution was for him to figure it out on his own.

“Look, we have more important things to do,” Paine said, putting her hand on Yuna’s shoulder as a gesture to leave. “The door’s going to be unlocked unless you start trouble. You’re not stupid enough to break anything important while several hundred feet up in the air.” Paine may not have met him personally, but she had heard stories, lived through the disasters he had caused, and seen him in spheres. He didn’t take ‘Don’t be stupid’ as a challenge, he took ‘don’t get in our way’ as one. If he was going to be helpful, he’d do it if he saw an advantage; if he was going to give them any information, he was going to boast about it. It was better to tempt him to do those things and than hinting that prying the floor panels loose was a better one.

“Mmh,” was all he responded with, still fixated yet fearful of his own hand and what had become of it.

  
  
  



	5. The Murder Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of murder. But I'm pretty sure you knew about that already.

As expected, Seymour began exploring once he was confident the three women were far enough away for his comfort. Everything was locked, bolted down, or some sort of angry, churning, roaring piece of Machina he didn’t want to be near. He wasn’t sure if this was a prison or a circus; all he knew was that he didn’t want to be involved with any of it.

It didn’t matter that he no longer had any political or clerical power. He barely had any to start with and those positions all made better leashes than opportunities. He didn’t miss having bodyguards; they tended to be useless most of the time and it wasn’t like they ever told him their names.

What bothered him was that he was trapped here. No clues, no way of making himself useful other than becoming someone else’s punching bag, no privacy. Doors didn’t mean anything if any idiot could open them. 

No maps, no tools, no hiding places. With the exception this one spot, no quiet.

A hypello screaming at him, people screaming near him, machina screaming because that’s what it did.

It wasn’t private, but he had managed to find a place, away from the others and away from the noise. He knew someone would eventually ruin it just because they could, but it was better than a small room resembling a mix between a closet and a jail cell.

And here she was, taking what little he had purely because she could. It wasn’t as if he could see anything through the fog.

“So this is where you went,” Paine said to herself. She hadn’t expected him to be on the roof of the ship, but then, she hadn’t expected him to be so… unimpressive.

He was just sitting there, staring into the black clouds.

“Apparently,” he muttered.

“Yuna told me about your dad,” Paine said. “Did you really do it?”

Seymour sighed and rolled his eyes. “What sense would it make to deny it now?” he asked, letting out a sigh after. “I’m not really in the mood, but you go ahead. I wouldn’t be able to stop you if I tried. Obviously.”

“Why?”

Seymour turned to look at her, unsure if he heard her right. Then he turned back the fog. It didn’t bother him and he didn’t bother it. That was much more preferable to people. “I don’t see why answering that would change anything,” he said.

“It makes a difference to me, and I’m the one locking up a murderer or letting you come back here later,” Paine retorted.

He turned to look at her, craning his neck to look at her face. Then he turned back to the fog, as if to wish it farewell. He stood up, refusing to use his mechanical hand to steady himself, treating it like a dead limb. “It’s impolite to walk ahead of one’s jailer.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Paine told him, blocking his way.

“And how credible are the words of a murderer?” he asked.

Paine couldn’t tell if he was teasing her about the truth she didn’t know or if he thought she was stupid for not thinking of this first. Either way, she wanted to punch him in the face, but she also wanted him to do something to deserve it more. If being a smartass was all that deserved a good hit, she’d be one big bruise most days.

“Shut up and get inside before you fall off.”

Seymour’s grin widened as he followed. “Really? Murders are planned in silence. After all, how do you think I got away with it?”

He was quiet after that, just as she ordered. He still smirked. Paine noticed that was as far as he came to being threatening. He looked like he was up to something. She could have just shoved him to his death while they were on the roof of the airship, but he had barely moved when he thought she was going to start a fight.

She noticed he was doing his best to keep his distance as she led him down through the ship. He moved away from machina when he could, and the only thing he took his eyes off her for was writing—signs, instructions, anything he hoped was in his native language that could give him some clue as to where he was or at least where the airship was going

Tidus was standing in front of the door to Seymour’s ‘room’. No one had told Seymour that it wasn’t actually meant for long-term use. It was a room meant for whoever handled overnight cargo-hauling tasks. It was there for a quick shower or nap during a long and boring flight before unloading it somewhere across the world.

“Here,” Tidus said, not even looking at Seymour as he tossed a pile of clothes at the half-breed. “Put those on.” He shoved Seymour into the room and slammed the door. “And no one cares.”


	6. Into the dark

“It’s not locked,” Seymour stated as he opened the door of his room. Either Paine hadn’t held up to her threat to play with him or she wanted to threaten him some more. He just wanted to know what game she was playing with him.

Neither she nor Tidus noticed him as they chatted about sports, despite how flashily he was dressed. Contrasting colors as bright as neon signs, and covered in sports logos and slogans, Seymour only cared that anything fit him. Barely. The sleeves were too short thanks to his father’s genes and the shoulders were too tight, thanks to his mother’s.

“Come on, Yuna wants you to check out what happened to Guadosalam and you’re coming with us,” Tidus said, grabbing Seymour’s good arm.

Seymour had waited for the ship to land—or whatever it was doing, he had no idea what was going on and just hoped he wouldn’t have a severe fear of heights after this.

“How many ribs did you break back there?” Paine asked, as she followed.

“All of them,” Seymour replied, dismissing the comment.

Paine shook her head. Why send someone back with their body fixed up if you didn’t bother to do the same to their head?

The ship landed just outside of the edge of the darkness, which was a thick dome of lightlessness now. Despite the opaqueness, there was no substance to it. Even by looking at it, one could tell there was no solidity to it, merely darkness.

Yuna and Rikku were already waiting for them.

“We should split up,” Yuna said. “We’ll have a better chance of finding anything that way.”

“I’ll watch this loser,” Tidus said, pointing over his shoulder at Seymour. “You go find something useful.”

“You’re abandoning me?” Yuna yelled. “I thought you said you wanted to do this with me.”

“I’m not abandoning you,” Tidus argued back. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I can protect myself! I saved Spira twice already!”

“I know. But you don’t like him and the farther away from him, the happier you are,” Tidus shot back, wondering why he was angry.

“Fine. But don’t mess up.” Yuna realized she wanted to win the argument more than she wanted to admit Tidus was right. She’d lost him, so she had to win something.

Yuna and her friends left into the darkness. Tidus watched them go, with no clue of what to do, not noticing the grimace on Seymour’s face as they left.

  
  



	7. I hate this song

Tidus kicked at the ground in frustration before turning to his ‘companion.’ “What’s your stupid problem?” he asked, finally noticing Seymour’s expression.

Seymour had backed away, staring at the black dome. His expression wasn’t one of disgust or hatred, and not quite one of fear. It was simply a feeling of being averse to the thing, as if they were two magnets repelling each other.

“It’s the farplane,” Seymour explained, holding up his mechanical hand to it, using the dead to reach toward the dead, but still too afraid to make contact. “This is the barrier of the farplane.” He spoke with the same sense of awe the most primitive of people must have spoken of fire. “It’s always been forbidden to touch it, let alone wander past.”

“Pssh, like I’ve ever cared about rules,” Tidus said before shoving Seymour past the edge of the darkness. “Get in there; I don’t care what you smell.”

The two were surrounded by darkness once they entered. While there was not even a tiny pool of light around them they could see themselves, and the ship behind them. Everything else was a black darker than the bleakest ink.

Seymour was even more unnerved, now confused as well. Tidus couldn’t fathom what was worrying him so much, but confusion he could understand. While they both had had their own unique experiences in the farplane, neither had just walked straight in before. Yuna had. From what she had told Tidus, but from her stories, problems tended to come to her.

Seymour’s eyes darted back and forth, noticing slight noises from all directions. They were whispers, and they were getting louder.

“You can’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark,” Tidus teased, ignoring the voices. “Come on, Lord Dumbass, pick a direction.”

Seymour could only try not to wince at the voices. None of them were familiar, but the sentiments were.  _ ‘Freak’. ‘Useless.’ ‘What do we do with it? _ ’

Then something else spoke up. A lilting, delicate voice, different from all the others, trying to drown them out.

_ Sweet child, do not fear the darkness _

_ Remember my smile as you sleep, _

_ I will carry you every step, _

_ Remember my love runs deep _

“What’s that?” Tidus asked, noticing the song had piqued Seymour’s detest. “Great, let’s go,” Tidus said, grabbing Seymour’s good hand and dragging him in the direction of the singing.

_ Blood of my blood _

_ And flesh of my flesh, _

_ Sweet child of mine _

_ Beautiful child, though your heart my know grief, _

_ Pain may be the wind, and you’ll always be the leaf, _

_ But I’ll always hold you, as you share my belief _

_ Always know that there is always hope down beneath _

“Alright, what are you up to?” Tidus asked, tightening his grip and ignoring the song.

Seymour shrugged, his characteristic smile returning. “Eh, whatever comes my way. I’m an opportunist.”

“That doesn’t answer squat. You’re hiding something, and I want to know what it is!” Tidus kept walking ahead and not looking back.

“You may be a bit more perceptive than you were before,” Seymour commented. He hoped whoever he was talking to didn’t notice he failed to mention their name. He had intended to learn it, but his plans had… hit a snag. He had asked Yuna while they were alone in Macalania, but he couldn’t keep them straight just from stories and descriptions. Was this blonde her cousin or the athlete she seemed to like? Or were they the same person? “But you’ve yet to learn that while a few secrets may slip between my fingers, you should be grateful I keep them to myself.” He gestured with his mechanical hand, which he’d let swing dormant until now. How best, to articulate a threat than with something cold, lifeless, and disgusting?

“Grateful?” Tidus yelled, gripping Seymour’s hand tighter and pulling him closer. “Everyone hates you! You’re lucky Yuna didn’t leave you to die on Baaj!”

“Those are hardly new opinions about me,” Seymour stated. “Nothing I’m not used to and nothing I can’t handle.”

“You blew up the Al Behd homeland!” Tidus shot back.

“I wasn’t the first person to dislike them and I wasn’t the first to suggest it,” Seymour replied casually. “I’m just the only one who had the courage to follow it through.”

“You attacked Mount Gagazet!” Tidus yelled. Something had to stick. Tidus was tempted to just leave Seymour here in the farplane where he belonged. He’d rather have Yuna elling at him than listen to Seymour not care about such things.

“I eliminated an obstacle in the way of pilgrimages,” Seymour said. “They’re much easier to undertake now.”

Tidus was quick enough not to let on that something seemed amiss about that last sentence. Yelling things always got him further than questions. “You destroyed Besaid!”

“It’s a small island, no one will miss it,” Seymour replied dismissively.

“You have no idea what you did, do you?” Tidus asked, his anger replaced by confusion.

“Not in the slightest,” Seymour admitted, his smirk gone, his smugness vanished into the dark, leaving only the other voices to haunt them both. “Unless the Fayth intervene, no one remembers what their body does as a fiend.” He wasn’t going to apologize for something he wasn’t responsible for. He had given himself enough to be hated for while he was alive. He doubted he deserved most hatred for most of it, though.

“How would you know?

Seymour was silent as the song took over for him.

_ Flower of my flower _

_ Dream of my dream _

_ Sweet child of mine _

__

_ Eyes with sapphire glow _

_ Skin of pearl and pure as snow, _

_ Hair darker than night and deep as the moonflow, _

_ With a garland of lace, a gentle daughter I’ll soon know _

_ Love of my love _

_ Hope of my hope _

__

_ You’ll wear this jeweled gift with pride _

_ Let its wings set you free as you walk in stride _

_ Down an aisle of jewels and lace as your mother cried _

_ To watch in awe as her child became a graceful bride _

Seymour sneered at the melody, despite it drowning out the other voices. “Because I’ve seen it happen,” he said. “People found me useful, being able to sense the dead—those who died in avalanches or from the cold, or in attacks by wolves or yetis. I found a family that was headed to the temple; the man was dead and had killed their young child after his own death. After the wife had recovered and the sending was finished, she wanted me to ask her husband why he went after the infant.

“I wasn’t able to get near the farplane until years later. When I asked him, he couldn’t recall what he did and he was shocked that it had happened. He left after I asked why he had a child in the first place if he held such feelings towards him.”

“My dad would know the answer,” Tidus said, loosening his grip, but not letting go. He wondered why Seymour was talking so…normally. His words seemed lifeless, like a blade too dulled to cut through a cloud. “Come on, Fruitcake, I think we’re almost there.” If only he knew what he was looking for.


	8. Sins of the fathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mild mentions of racism and drunken abuse

“I’ve met your father,” Seymour said. “I didn’t know he had a son at the time. I would have asked.”

“You met him?” Tidus asked.

“He came to the temple to wait out a storm before he was arrested,” Seymour said. “That was before he started his pilgrimage.”

“What was he like?” Tidus asked. He didn’t really trust Seymour, but the man was speaking completely differently than usual, it was as if Seymour were talking to a child or a pet; someone harmless and innocent--something that likely wouldn’t understand or was incapable of asking questions beyond ‘and then what?’

“Loud,” Seymour said, testing the conversational waters. He had run into problems insulting his own parents, who knew what trouble he’d get into insulting someone else’s? “A drunken braggart and when he broke things. I had to clean it up,” Seymour finished, seeing if Tidus was about to get violent over his father’s indiscretions.

Tidus was quiet for a moment, slowing as he tugged Seymour along. The song had begun to repeat. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” There was no way Seymour of all people was going to agree about how badly his dad treated him.

“Of course I’m lying,” Seymour said proudly, his smirk and smugness returning. “It’s what I do.”

“Why are you listening to this guy in the first place?” a familiar voice asked, speaking above the rest and managing to be heard through the song.

“Auron?” Tidus called out.

“Exactly where am I going to go?” Seymour asked, gesturing to the darkness. So much for thinking his babysitter had gotten any smarter.

“Don’t move and don’t touch anything!” Tidus commanded, letting go of Seymour’s hand and waiting a full second before running off to find after the source of Auron’s voice.

“What is there to even touch?” Seymour muttered to himself. He wanted to just enjoy both the silence and the calm of no longer being patronized or accused of anything, but he knew that wouldn’t last.

The voices grew louder, more distinct, drowning out the song.

_‘Hey, Barro, get a load of this ugly kid! Just imagine the broad that thing must have come out of!’_ he heard behind him. He hated this memory. It always came back to him when he thought he was safe, even just for a moment. Something struck him from behind. The memory was turning real. He wasn’t safe at all this time.

He spun around, snarling, only to see darkness ahead.

_ ‘Screw Yevon, why do we have to take care of a mutant?’ _

_ ‘Why do you keep that freak around the temple?’ _

_ ‘I broke yer stupid relic? Eh, ugly over there will clean it up. At least he’s good for something.’ _

He took a step back, tripping as something in the darkness grabbed at his feet. The voices were screaming. The darkness was closing in, feeling tight around him. He could feel blood flowing down his neck from his wound.

_ ‘Call the clergy; they’ll get rid of it!’ ‘Is he sick?’  _

_ ‘Yeah, I heard of those things, but that doesn’t look right.’  _

_ ‘Hit it again, maybe this time it’ll do something.’  _

_ ‘Nah, there’s something wrong with it’  _

_ ‘Don’t touch it’ _

He could hear rustling in the darkness beyond the voices. He could see eyes, bright and shining with hunger, all staring at him. 

Everything was spinning. He couldn’t catch his breath for some reason. The voices were getting closer. The things were getting closer.

Something hit him again, this time larger and heavier. He raised his hand in front of his face against an onslaught that would be coming. 

He didn’t want to face it then and he didn’t want to face it now.

Something grabbed his arm.

“Seymour?”

  
  



	9. Blood N my hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood

“What are you doing?” Yuna asked, as Seymour took his arm away. The voices were silent.

“Is he in shock?” Rikku asked, clueless, but concerned.

Seymour sighed. He was internally grateful none of them thought he needed help standing. He’d learned that the moment you ask for help is the moment you give someone a target. He stood up unsteadily, not wanting to give any of the three women something to mock him over. If only everything would stop spinning. If only he could catch his breath.

“He’s having a panic attack.” Paine said.

“He’s what?” Tidus asked, returning from wherever he had wandered off to.

“Where were you?” Yuna scolded.

“I heard Auron’s voice and I didn’t want him coming with me and causing trouble,” Tidus said. “I could still see him.”

“Seymour?” Rikku squeaked, pointing at his mechanical hand.

He yelped, shaking his hand open. In his panic, the thing had grasped at objects on the ground and now it was reluctant to release them. He shook his head to clear it, though seeing the items made him regret the clarity. “Garbage,” he said, looking at what he had dropped.

“This is beautiful,” Yuna exclaimed, taking one of the objects. She ignored a brocade sash, now ripped and filthy from years of hiding from its owner and a necklace of finely carved jewels black, deep indigo, and pearls the color of the moon.

Her lithe fingers delicately traced over a hair comb; three different gems carved into three different kinds of flowers, set in the shape of a graceful bird. She stroked the comb teeth as if petting a shy animal and delicately traced over the finely carved petals, almost in reverence.

“I said it’s garbage,” Seymour yelled, grabbing the comb from Yuna’s hand and turning to throw it into the darkness behind him, touching it as if it had bitten him.

He turned back to Yuna, his eyes like slits. There was no anger, just defiance. If he was going to be punished for not wanting to introduce ghosts of his past to her—again—so be it.

Yuna was happy to oblige. She struck him, open-handed, across the face, with enough force to almost throw him off-balance. “You are worthless!” she exclaimed.

“I’d be careful with those words unless you mean them,” Seymour said calmly. “Everyone else who said them to me is dead. I’ve made sure of it.”

“Take him back to the ship. I don’t want him to set foot on Spira ever again,” Yuna ordered before storming off ahead of the others.

***** 

“Yuna said ‘ship’. She didn’t say where,” Paine told Seymour as she yanked him past his room and to the bar. “Have a seat.”

Seymour quietly and obediently did so, his mind elsewhere. He gave Paine a curious look as she transformed into her white mage garments, but remained silent. He hissed as he flinched away when Paine reached out to the back of his head as she sat down.

“Don’t be a baby,” Paine chided. “You can be annoying all you want without bleeding all over the place.”

“There’s no point,” he said, waving her away and leaning to the side, only for her to pull him back by grabbing his hair. “Yuna will be in a worse mood if she finds out.”

“She’s nasty when she’s in a bad mood, but she’s not going to kill you again for throwing things that belonged to ghosts,” Tidus said, his expression showed he agreed with the former summoner, no matter what she thought of him. “You deserved that, though.”

“You have glass in your hair,” Paine stated. However crazy he was acting, the most damage he had caused had been to himself. “Try not to move.” She picked up a spare fork from the counter and carefully held a short lock of Seymour’s hair between her fingers with her other hand. She eased the fork through his hair, gathering the drying blood and glass shards from matts .

Seymour glowered, wondering how to get her hands off of him. These two seemed calm and abiding; as much as he wanted to trust them, these were Yuna’s friends and guardians. Besides, real kindness wasn’t meant for him. Everyone wanted something from him, and that wasn’t going to change in this lifetime.

His thoughts were interrupted by a muffled pounding from above that gained both his and Tidus’s attention.

“That’s hail,” Paine said. “I told you to hold still.”

For a few moments both men kept their gaze at the ceiling. Seymour had never been in any kind of flying contraption and despite how much he’d been surrounded by machina as a maester, he’d never gotten over the sense that mechanical contraptions were extremely dangerous. He’d merely kept his distance and learned to pretend he had never even noticed most of them, something Kinoc took pleasure in making fun of him over at every opportunity. 

Tidus had only spent a few days in one before and the only threats he’d known were Wakka’s blundering and pushing random buttons and a dragon over Bevelle. Living in an airship had become normal to Paine but to the others in the room, the concept was still foreign.

Seymour shot the other two quizzical glances again. When things were dire in Macalania, no one wanted to share safety or stores of food or clean water with him. The worse things were, the less anyone wanted him around, no matter what position he held. Yet the pounding continued and these two were still here.

There was something familiar to him, looming over the horizon. If doom was going to be inevitable, he might as well find humor in it.

“What’d you do?” Tidus asked.

“This time around?” Seymour asked. “Nothing intentional. I find it amusing that out of all people in Spira, she’d be saving me along with them. And I can’t see her making that choice.”

“You need a better sense of humor,” Tidus asked, crossing his arms and trying to look threatening.

“I wasn’t raised that way,” Seymour said. “If what I suspect is true, she’ll have to decide soon.”

“Sin’s after you?” Paine asked. She often hated being the only smart person in the room, and at this point she didn’t include Seymour as one of them.

“It would make sense, given the timing,” Seymour answered. “I never heard my father’s voice back there. He’s never been one for quiet. Or subtlety.”

“So, how do we stop it?” Tidus asked. He wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea of saving Seymour either.

Seymour shrugged, earning a mild slap from Paine for moving too much. “I don’t know what you did the last time. I don’t have all the answers, just the ones that entertain me.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Paine asked. This may have been the first time she had known him in person, but she felt he’d dump sugar in the fuel tank the second he learned how the ship worked.

“Because I’ve been through what happens when I leave you people to figure things out on your own.” And I don’t like to be treated this way when it’s all lies.” He stood up and turned to walk away.

Before Seymour could leave, Tidus reached out and grabbed the hood of his jacket. “Touch Yuna again and you’ll be missing another hand.”

“Empty threats,” Seymour replied once Tidus let go.

Paine stayed silent, letting Tidus glare and Seymour mope away. As long as she didn’t have to clean up the mess, she didn’t care.

  
  



	10. Sympathy for the Devil

It was the middle of the night, according to Seymour’s estimate. It was pitch black outside thanks to the fog. The only change was the occasional lightning strike and long rumble of thunder storm that had begun.

Through the noise of thunder and pounding of the hail, Seymour heard someone thumping on his door.

He opened the door without speaking, expecting Yuna to be there, ready to finish him off.

It wasn’t Yuna.

“Are you really here?” It was Yuna’s blonde female friend.

“No, I’m a figment of your imagination,” Seymour answered and closed the door, wondering what that was all about. At least she wasn’t bloodthirsty.

The pounding returned.

“Yes?” Seymour asked, opening it again. He had waited for a distant rumbling to die down first.

“Do you smell funny?” she asked. “I mean, you’re not all farplaney, are you?”

“No,” he answered. “Other than needing a shower, I smell fine.”

“You should have this then,” she said, handing him a bowl of food. “I didn’t think dead people ate food,” she said. “Auron liked to drink, but I think he only did that to look cool.”

There was a flash of light. Even through the tiny windows of the airship cargo bay, it was enough to make Seymour tense up. He refused to admit it, but he was glad this person ignored his reaction. He didn’t count on others being as accommodating. He also wondered why she didn’t seem to care.

“If you can smell dead people, can you smell when Sin is coming?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, confused. That kind of question was an accusation usually, but she didn’t ask it like one. He decided to leave it at that, in case it was. 

“I guess no one wanted that,” she said, surprising him again. Her insight failed to match her bubbly way of articulation. It was like seeing mirrors in a rainbow. There was more than just the expected simplicity, creating an intricate pattern and a mess at the same time.

Before he could close the door on her a second time, there was another deep rumble from the sky, surrounding him like a blanket that threatened to grow spikes. He couldn’t help but tense up at the sound. Lizards he would fight without a second thought. He would at least try to defend himself in a fight when he found it necessary. Sinspawn had been mere child’s play for his magic. But the sky growling at him from all directions, especially when he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide; turned him back into the small, weak and defenseless little boy he wanted to leave behind. The worst part was there was always someone watching him when that happened. Someone who took their hand away or never gave it in the first place. He took a step back, not wanting to see that dagger of a grin on her that he’d seen so many times before.

“Are you… afraid?” she asked.

He hated the answer. He hated it more than the blood on his hands that had finally given him freedom. And he hated the reason he couldn’t give it to this woman.

“It’s okay,” she said, gently placing her hand on his arm at the edge of the foul replacement for his hand. Where life met death. The unnatural replacing the natural. He didn’t understand why she had no qualms about him, given the fuss she’d been involved with last time they met. Perhaps it was because of her own heritage that had conquered life that she felt no fear or disgust. 

“I used to be afraid of thunder and lightning too.”

He kept silent. He wondered if it was ignorance or love of metal imitating rot that kept her hand on him. Her words were just snowflakes falling on hot steel, beautiful things dying in a futile attempt to quell something blunt and dangerous. Sparkling glitter going up in flame before ever touching the rough metal shaped from beating and blades. Beauty dying before an unfinished thing of death and pain.

“Are you scared of Yunie?” she asked.

“Isn’t that what she wanted?” he asked. So this is why she had come down here, to make sure the monster feared the master.

“Did you even like Yuna?” the woman asked. “Before… um…”

“Things became complicated,” he said, finishing her sentence for her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “So… did you?”

There was another flash before he answered. “No. But I didn’t lie to her about my offer.”

“You mean that thing with Lord Zero and Yunalesca?” she asked.

“Zaon, yes,” he corrected. “If she wanted someone that devoted to her, I could have been that for her.”

The sky growled again, angry the lightning never found its hidden prey.

“Did that really happen?” she asked. “Were those two really like that for each other?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “It was a thousand years ago. All that’s left is a fairytale and only idiots put stock in fairytales.”

Rikku was quiet for a moment as she pieced things together. Some people tried to hide who they really were. Some people were willing to tell you outright. Some were too shy or too quiet but they let you see for yourself. Seymour was thousands of little pieces you had to hunt down with the right questions and you had no idea what the image was supposed to be as you tried to set each piece where it belonged. And now the image just changed. 

He could have been one of those selfless guardians from old stories of knights and princesses, wanting nothing more than to aid the delicate maiden. Now he hated her and he hated himself for trying. 

Rikku remembered he never really offered love as part of their marriage when he was alive. It had been about making others happy. That was all he seemed to do when he was alive: things for other people. But that didn’t make any sense.

“People said you could have been a summoner, but you didn’t. Did you never have any guardians?”

“Just one,” Seymour said. This wasn’t a door he wanted to open again. There were many he was willing to leave open for others seeking answers and he wasn’t going to close them just because someone else reeled back in revulsion or tried to slam it in his face. This one, though… he needed a better lock. “She…shouldn’t have been one.”

_ He heard voices. The maids didn’t gossip this late at night. His mother shouldn’t be up. She had promised him they would both do nothing but sleep after a short meeting with his father. They had skipped dinner and he was hungry now. He should be the only person awake. _

_ Stealth had been vital on Baaj, and he and his mother had traveled by night to keep from being seen. He figured these skills were needed even on his own here in his father’s palace. _

_ The door to his father’s study was ajar, and golden light was pouring out into the darkened hallway. Even his mother had been forbidden from the room, but the voices—hers and his father’s—were coming from in there. _

_ Traipsing closer, he could make out their argument. _

_ “It will be only ten years. If you can spend that time with him, I can wait for a daughter,” his mother spoke. _

_ “She will only know you when she visits the farplane. She will hardly know you as a mother,” his father replied. The only times Seymour had even seen his father show emotions, besides violent anger or disdain, was when he was talking to his mother. Something was wrong by the way they spoke to each other. _

_ “She will have you. You can protect a daughter. Give her to one of the priests if you cannot. You told me Braska was trying for a daughter with half genes as well. As long as she’s beautiful, she’ll be protected. Someone will need to rule in your stead someday. You cannot abandon that and we cannot leave it up to him,” she begged _

_ “The only thing that pains me is that I would have to lose you to be rid of him,” his father said. _

_ “I won’t live that long,” she told him. “I don’t have the energy to carry a child again, nor enough time in the world to bear it,” she said. “Please, find another and tell the child she is mine. Give me the gift of the daughter I always wanted to see as she climbs the stairs to the farplane on her wedding.” _

_ “I will do what I can,” he said, trying to comfort her with his words. “The women here are not keen to give up a child, let alone pretending it belongs to an outsider. You know how suspicious my people are. It’s why I couldn’t have someone drown the boy.” _

_ “Promise me you will honor his death. You can finally be proud of your boy after this. It will be a pride for the whole nation. Do not let anyone think you have no feelings for the world,” she begged. _

_ “As long as you will forgive me if I cannot give you this. You ask more than you think,” he said. “Stay another night, at least. Recover your health and we can plan for a daughter tomorrow. If Braska’s a heretic enough to try for one of his own, he can take in an orphan and penance. I’m sure the maesters would find that fitting.” _

“Do you know what happened to her?” Rikku asked.

“I watched her die,” he answered.

“Um…” The conversation had driven itself into a dark corner she didn’t like. “I should go and… ew. You should probably think of something else before you eat that.”

Lightning flashed again, filling the silent void between the two with a blinding light.

“My name is Rikku. Try not to forget it this time.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what ao3 is doing with my paragraph indentations


	11. Pancakes for a breakfast

Yuna’s anger had overshadowed any sense of shock anyone had over Seymour’s return. Her glare was a scalding splash of spite, too painful to face with questions. She’d carried that silent, smoldering anger with her, quieting Kurgum and Chuami when they tried to refuse to let him on board the airship.

Everyone had questions. She was their leader, and why she was was anyone’s guess? (This sentence was a little awkward), wasn’t one of them. But she knew there were others. She didn’t want to face them until she already had answers. She had far too many herself and she just wanted to sit on her bed and think until she had the answers or couldn’t think anymore. 

She wasn’t going to ask Seymour if she could help it. Trusting him would be stupid. They were playing the same game: whoever had answers had power over the other. Knowing you had information meant you were in control. He was nothing and should know he was nothing. The others could try and treat him kindly, but they’d learn soon enough how much of a mistake that would be. She could trust her friends to be cautious and armed and she could trust the newcomers to keep their distance. 

Later that night she had heard rumors that things—dark shapes, bright eyes, long-glistening teeth, whispers of shadows—various ghosts or dark forms were slipping out of what had become of the farplane. Wanderers and travelers were turning back while voices of fear began to spread across invisible communication lines created by the Al Behd.

Who knew what disaster might happen if they just killed Seymour and moved on?

There had to be some reason he was sent back. There had to be some connection between his return and the destruction of the farplane; between what she’d seen in her vision and what it was now. What did he have to do with Sin? Tidus had told her what Seymour had said; while Tidus wouldn’t lie about it, Seymour would and even Tidus knew that.

She refused to play that game with Seymour. She was not going to treat him as someone vulnerable. He wasn’t a victim and he never could be. He was a monster and she was going to make sure he remembered that, no matter what he told anyone.

This was her problem and she had to fix it. Yuna was the one the Fayth had spoken to after all. She was Spira’s hero twice now. She could do it again and she was going to. She had to. She was born to save the world. She had always been told that and she had always believed in it.

Why did she feel like she no longer believed it?

*****

It was early in the morning, before the sun had risen. It was impossible to tell with the dark fog and storm. 

Yuna wasn’t sure if she could decide anything yet. She was still angry. She was still resentful. She was still sure he was to blame for something and all she wanted to know was what that was.

Everyone had a story to tell. Everyone had their own opinions about them. Everyone had a different idea about him. None of them had a clue about what to do about Seymour.

Tidus didn’t try to defend himself about walking off. Kurgum and Chuami said they’d do as the Fayth had ordered, so long as Yuna was sure of what they had meant. Paine was the only one to point out anything useful.

“He’s just saying what he thinks is funny. He was already useless without a head injury.”

“The Fayth wouldn’t tell me anything if it wasn’t important,” Yuna said. “But I don’t know how to trust most of what he says.”

“Maybe he’s not supposed to say anything,” Chuami suggested. “Maybe he’s supposed to do something.”

“Or not do it,” Kurgum suggested. That seemed like the best answer.

“Where’s Rikku?” Yuna asked.

“She’s grabbing some food. She said we can talk without her,” Paine said.

***** 

“Come on!” Rikku squeaked, tugging Seymour along.

“I don’t think this is wise,” Seymour cautioned, reluctantly letting her lead him through the ship.

“Pah! Like wise things ever got me anywhere,” she commented. “Besides, we’re having pancakes. Everyone loves pancakes. C’mon. Eat like normal people.”

Seymour sighed. He wasn’t going to win this argument. If he wanted to be normal, people complained. If he didn’t want to be normal, people complained.

He let her lead him to the bar and shove him into a seat next to the other blonde. She joined in an argument. Everyone, save for two people in the middle of the group, were engaged in. Seymour tried to drown it out, though he noticed his name mentioned once or twice.

“Go talk to him,” Chuami whispered to Kurgum.

“I don’t want to,” Kurgum complained, watching Seymour.

“Then stop staring!” Chuami scolded, bumping Kurgum with her elbow.

“I can’t help it,” he said defensively.

Seymour was very sure he’d never met these two before. 

“What do you think his ears are like?” Kurgum whispered to Chuami

“I can hear just fine with them, if that’s what you’re asking,” Seymour commented.

“Ow!” Kurgum yelped, receiving a harsher jab from Chuami.

Seymour couldn't blame him for the comments, but not for staring. He had become used to people watching him curiously just for standing around by the time he was five. No other child looked remotely like him and he hadn’t grown any more to resemble one side of his heritage or the other by the time he was an adult. It wasn’t as if he could hide many of his features with the clothes he currently wore. 

Tidus had apparently shopped at a sports souvenir shop for his garments. Everything was brightly colored and covered with logos and slogans of teams and arenas. Tidus had even tossed him a headband, though Seymour doubted it was to keep the frond of hair out of his face.

The sleeves of the coat were too short, making his odd hands stand out. The shirt didn’t cover much of his tattoos and managed to draw attention to the trails of ink on his chest. The headband at least hid the trails of blue on his forehead, evidence that he was too dyed in the blood of fey and arborescent creatures to humans and that the dye was far too shallow for the proud minority race.

“Aww,” Rikku muttered as the loud pounding of the hail returned. The lightning had not let up, but the rumbling was muffled here and the flashes couldn’t penetrate into the windowless mess hall. The hail had ended shortly after she had spoken to him, something she was proud of, but never expressed to others. While it was disappointing to her to have to keep secrets from her friends, she kept telling herself she’d feel better accomplishing something later on if she kept it to herself.

She smiled and waved at Seymour, who only gave her a surprised blink before keeping a cautious gaze on the others. She figured that had to mean she accomplished something if he didn’t consider her a threat.


End file.
